Not The Boy Next Door
by Asifweneversaidgoodbye
Summary: CrissColfer! Set after Chris walks of stage after this performance, because seriously. Who can ignore him wearing pants like that?


**AN: Hi guys. Please don't hate me for still not updating. I know I promised. And I will. I just decided to let it rest for a little while, because my school&work are seriously getting worse and I'm also sick at the moment so yeah. I figured that maybe I can make you happy with my oneshot drabbles :) I hope so at least. They're all CrissColfer ofcourse ;) So here is the first!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Chris or Darren or any Glee or Gleerelated stuff.**

Walking off stage in this ridiculous tight -make my ass look good, but made it battle with my dick- pants, I tried to catch my breath.

Dancing still took a lot of energy from me, no matter how hard we trained.

I was supposed to be in the auditorium in thirty minutes, so I could make a detour towards the canteen before I went back. I could use the little bit of 'cooling down' if you know what I mean.

Suddenly there was a hand around my wrist, pulling me inside one of the empty classrooms.

_"__Wha-,"_ I started, but a hand was covering my mouth, heavy breathing filling my ear.

"Did you really expect me to act all calm when you're moving your ass, hips and legs like _that?" _a very familiar voice said in my ear.

A soft whimper escaped my lips, ashamed to already be turned on with just hearing him say that.

Maybe the warm press of his body and his _very_ hard cock against me, didn't help either.

I pressed my ass back a little, just to tease him some more.

"I could see you being hard you know," he muttered now, lips grazing my ears.

"Who were you thinking of Chris? Tell me, who made you that _hard_?" his breathless voice asked me in a demanding tone.

"You," I said in a voice that sounded way too husky and pathetic.

But God, when he was … controlling me like this I could't control myself anymore.

"Were you now?" he asked in a amused tone, while his right hand started to stroke my chest, all the way from my breastbone towards my groin.

When he was almost there, he stopped, making me whine and sound like a petulant child.

"Yes, _fuck_, it's always you," I replied, hoping with every fiber in my body he would just _touch _me.

"What were you thinking about then?" he asked me and started to stroke my thighs, tantalizing slow.

"You-_oh._" I seriously hated my voice when it sounded so breathless and high.

The hold he had on my body suddenly became tighter and his fingers digged into my flesh in an almost painful grip.

And god, it turned me on even more.

"Go on, baby. What was I doing to you?"

"You were stretching my legs for the dance, hovering over me, trapping me with your body," I started to say in a very fast matter, afraid I would get distracted, _again._

"You like to be restrained, don't you? Nowhere to go, all surrendered to me?"

I could hear from his voice he was getting more turned on by this as well and the teasing fingers told me enough, he wanted this to go on.

Moaning softly I nodded against him.

"God, yes. I love it," I gasped, pressing myself closer to his firm body, slowly rotating my hips, feeling how hard he actually was.

His groan in my ear and the tightening of his hands told me I went too far.

"Not so fast now, Chris. If you're a good boy I'll reward you. You know that."

I could only nod again, too turned on to speak.

"Maybe I need some spanking," suddenly left my lips and my eyes flew wide open at that.

God, we had _never_ done that, but fuck it made my dick twitch in interest.

The throaty chuckle behind me made me believe he liked the idea as well.

"Maybe later, babe. First tell me what you were thinking of after I pinned you to the ground."

I swallowed, already wanting it to be _later._

"You were so close to me, holding me down, you could feel my cock."

"I'm sure you were hard, willing me to just take you, weren't you?"

I made an agreeing noise.

"You're always so hard and willing for me, Chris. It's so hot," he said and finally -goddamn _finally_- he let his palm surround my aching cock.

A loud moan escaped my lips, head falling backwards at his shoulder.

"Fuck, yes, so _so _good," I groaned and couldn't help but thrust into his hand.

"You like that huh? So you were hard underneath me."

Apparently he was really interested in my fantasy, because he couldn't let it go.

"You noticed_, fuck, _so you-you pressed down on me. I could feel, _holyfucking please don't stop, _feel you hard as well."

His hand started to stroke faster and more possessive.

"What did you do about that?" he asked now.

It still amazed me how much pleasure he could get out of just pleasing me.

"I said- I said 'Take me. Now.'"

His hand stopped momentarily to open up my zipper so he could put his hand _inside_ of my pants.

I really didn't make embarrassing protesting noises the moment he stopped stroking. I didn't.

And I certainly didn't yell out his name and swore loudly when I felt his warm calloused fingers around my cock.

Really, I didn't.

"So you wanted me to take you right there? On stage, with camera's and all?" his voice asked now, almost so low I couldn't hear it anymore.

"I did," I admitted, not even caring anymore, because _fuck this felt so good._

I really wanted this to last, but his hand was just giving the right pressure, the perfect rhythm, god I was _so _close.

"I would, if you'd ask me, you know," he said in such a casually tone, which just the right twist of his wrist, that I came embarrassingly fast, moaning his name, cumming all over his hand in my ruined golden pants.

Trying to catch my breath I let him grip my hips, so he could rub against me, giving him back just the right pressure so he could come too.

_"__Fuck, Chris!" _he yelled and came as well, into his pants and almost toppling as both over.

Both calmed down, as good as anyway, I turned around, pressing my forehead against his shoulder.

"The clothing department must be hating us. They must," I muttered, letting my lips kiss his sensitive spot right underneath his ear.

"Are you sure?" he asked me, laughing slightly. "I think they get a kick out of it. I mean everything they make you wear ends up being ruined by the both of us. They just make you wear tighter stuff. Why would they do that then? I think they actually love us," he decided and pressed his lips into my hair.

Grabbing his hands I pushed myself off him, already wincing at the sticky feeling in my pants.

"Well, it's a good thing then that I love you too, Dare. Because sticky pants suck."

His melodic laugh filled the empty classroom.

"I love you too Sticky Pants Chris."

**AN: There you go :) Hope you liked it! Let me know! **


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